Madness
by xx44BellaLuna44xx
Summary: The valkyrie Aeron has a heart of ice. She vows to protect Asgard and closes herself off to all but her duty. Until, she meets the youngest prince of Asgard, Loki. When he saves her from an ancient beast, she begins to open up again. But, can she trust the God of Mischief? Or will love blind her to the real enemies that threaten Asgard? (Loki X OC)
1. Chapter 1

_Omaha Beach_

 _Normandy, France_

 _June 6, 1944_

The sea was red with blood as the valkyrie strode among the dead.

Listening to the gentle _swish-swish_ of the waves breaking out on shore, she could almost pretend she was standing in Pools of Lior on Alfheim if she closed her eyes.

Instead, the waves broke out on steel I-beams and dismembered bodies.

Soldiers and medics wondered the beach, picking out their dead. They passed by Aeron focused on their task, oblivious to the valkyrie that stood among them.

Aeron was used to the scenes of battle on Midgard. She'd walked on the surface of Midgard since the time of the Vikings. She'd _been_ a Midguardian once. But, now she was a Valkyrie, Chooser of the Slain, Warden of Asgard, in the service of the Allfather. It was her duty to reap the souls that were worthy enough to enter the Halls of Valhalla.

Many mortal men had forgotten the name of Valhalla. They'd replaced the Allfather with another god, an untouchable one, a metaphysical one. Still, the Allfather preferred it this way and so Aeron obliged him as did all her Sisters.

Still, this was why Choosings were slow and required patience. Aeron only stopped at a body if she felt the Connection. The requirements into Valhalla were many and the expectations steep. The men (and women) she chose would go on to serve the House of Odin. They needed valor, of course, but above all other requirements, they needed honor, to abide by the code of morality. Aeron had seen many men of valor but few that were truly honorable.

Aeron paused by the body of a young man who can't have been older than eighteen. He lay on his back with his eyes open, not yet clouded over by old death. Half of his torso had been blown away and his innards spilled out onto the sand like eels. She'd seen him during the battle, watched him struggle against the surf as he fought his way out of the water. Then, his friend had been shot in the leg and he'd grabbed the man by the scruff of his collar and dragged him along, refusing to leave anyone behind. That was when a pipe bomb had landed three feet from him. He'd thrown his body over his injured friend but it didn't matter. They'd been killed anyways.

Aeron knelt beside him and kissed his lips, breathing life back into his soul.

His eyes opened.

"Am I dead?" It wasn't a question.

"Not yet," Aeron rose. She could feel the wings on her back fan out behind her. The young man's eyes widened and he propped himself up on his elbows, staring transfixed.

"Are you an angel?" He breathed.

"I am a Valkyrie from the Realm Eternal. I have come to guide you onwards,"

"Onwards?" he said, beginning to look around. "Onwards where?"

This was the hardest part of reaping. Most Midguardians didn't take the news of their imminent death well. Some men cried, others begged her. Aeron didn't think this young man would do either. He was tough as nails.

So just replied with all the formalities of conducting business.

"By the grace of Odin Allfather, King of Asgard and Protector of the Nine Realms, you have been welcomed into the Halls of Valhalla. You will be rewarded for your valor and honor on the promise that you protect and serve the House of Odin,"

"The House of what?" The young man began then he shook his head as if he were trying to forget a bad memory. She could see it in his face, _this isn't the way it is supposed to be._ "I just wanna go home. Take me home," The young man's voice cracked.

"You cannot go home, your body is destroyed," Aeron could feel impatience creep into her voice. Perhaps, she had misjudged him. Maybe he would cry. She waved to his torso. "You have two choices, to follow me to the Halls of Valhalla and become a soldier of Asgard, the Realm Eternal or to Freyja and dwell in the fields Fólkvangr, the resting place for warriors who fought bravely in battle. One path will lead you to a new life, to eternal glory, the other to eternal peace. The choice must be yours but you must make it now,"

The young man sighed and looked away, thinking. His eyes swam with tears that threatened to fall. Aeron tried to wait patiently but she could help but feel a flicker of annoyance. Men always thought they'd gotten the short end of the stick. She'd seen women choose without so much as a waver in their voice. Women who'd been in much less of a greater position than the young man before her. Would he really be suitable for Valhalla? Had she chosen incorrectly.

"What about my buddies, Jim or Nathan? Carver? Did they make it?" He insisted. The young man stood up now, leaving his body behind on the beach.

"I am not an oracle. I only see one man at a time. You are first of the many I have come to collect. There are others that are waiting,"

 _Be patient, be empathetic,_ Brunhild's voice was in her ear, _it is your duty to explain their choices, to answer their questions._

Duty.

She was first and foremost a Valkyrie. She would fulfill her duty with no complaints, no judgements, no impatience and execute it with valor and honor. _Valor and Honor_. Aeron stood up straighter and grasped her banner pole proudly.

A strange light filled the youth's eyes as they slipped past her face and out to the horizon. His eyebrows furrowed and he wiped his tears away. He'd made up his mind but she could tell he had one more question left.

"Will I see my family again?" He whispered.

An iron fist squeezed around her heart and the echoes of longing crept out from a hidden box she'd locked away. They all asked this question. It was nothing new. She'd asked it herself when the valkyrie had come for her on the battlefield.

Yet after all these long years of service to Asgard, Aeron still felt the young man's pain, his longing for home, to feel the arms of those he loved around him, to feel _safe_. She'd felt his pain every day for the last thousand years. The least she could do was tell him the truth. He'd deserved the truth.

"No," She said, keeping her face stony and passive. "you will not,"

The young man paused again. Then, he closed his eyes. The sound of the sea filled the silence.

After a moment, he opened his eyes. They had already changed color as the last of his mortality slipped away. He cleared his throat.

"Valhalla," his voice broke and he cleared it, this time looking determined, almost defiant "I chose Valhalla,"

Aeron gave him a sad smile. "Valhalla it is," She stepped towards him and rested her hand on his shoulder. A ray of light shot down from the sky and his soul disappeared in a brilliant, bright blue light.

She watched the first of her souls go. How many men had she delivered? How many had she ripped apart from their families, from the ones that they loved? The Halls of Valhalla were reserved only for fallen warriors, nothing more nothing less. Even in death, a great warrior shall never be reunited with his earthly family. It was the price to pay.

Behind her, Aeron could hear the Bifrost open and the sounds of a valkyrie descending from Asgard. Aeron felt relieved. There were nearly nine-thousand men lying on the beach, awaiting their turn. Most would go to Freyja. The valkyrie didn't offer the same choice Aeron had just given the young man to every soldier who had died. Still, those that were Chosen, needed time to decide. Time that could be doubled if Aeron had another Valkyrie at her side.

 _Lo, they do call to me,_

 _They bid me take my place among them_

 _In the Halls of Valhalla,_

 _Where the brave shall live forever,_

 _Where thine enemies have been vanquished,_

 _Nor shall we mourn but rejoice,_

 _For those who have died_

 _The glorious death_

The valkyrie Brunhild said and stood by Aeron's side. They greeted one another with a slight bow of the neck and a fist over their heart. The two surveyed the gruesome scene of battle.

The Midguardians called it justice but it was slaughter. With each passing century, their machines of war became more and more efficient at killing and the twenty-first century was by far the most terrifying. Human had made vehicles of steel and iron, bombs that leaked poisonous gas, guns that never ran out of bullets, flamethrowers, U-boats, and fighter planes. How much more death and destruction could they bring down upon themselves until it was too late?

"This is not glorious, Brunhild," Aeron said darkly. Her thoughts turned briefly to the camp she'd visited yesterday. It had been a small uprising in a Jewish ghetto—a battle for them but not for their enemy.

"It is not in our place to judge them, we are here for one purpose only," Brunhild reminded her. "We have been chosen by the Allfather to collect souls for his armies, nothing more, nothing less. Let us do our duty and be done with it,"

Aeron agreed with her _modre_. She had a job, a duty, and she would see it through to the end.

XXXX

Loki Odinson walked among the statues of fallen gods. Each one was molded from gold and gleamed in the setting Asgardian sun. They towered above him, staring down with screaming faces forever caught in the moment of their greatest triumph or with heads bowed in stoic solemnity—a tribute to their contributions of wisdom.

Loki longed to touch them, to hold their own fierceness in his palm and capture it for his own. He wanted their passion, their wanton desire for battle, for blood and honor. But, he had none of their bravery, none of their physical prowess.

 _We are not mortal and yet we still bleed. We are immune to age but not to death. Remember this, and you remember there are forces in this universe that a far greater than you. Pride is the downfall of men. Do not let it be the downfall of you_ , _do not let it be the downfall of Asgard,_ the Allfather had told Loki and Thor when they were young.

Thor looked upon the faces of the fallen gods and laughed.

 _Look at them, Loki._ Thor had said to him years later when he was already known as the fiercest warrior throughout the kingdom. _They are here because they were weak, because they died. I will never be a statue in these halls because I will always win my battles, I will live because I am strong._

Behind the Allfather's back, Thor had always called the Hall of the Gods, the Hall of Fools. Sif, Fandral and Volstagg all agreed as did Loki but secretly, he'd wanted a statue to be made of him. He wanted Asgardians to look up at him the same way they looked at the Allfather—the way they were beginning to look at Thor—and admire him, desire to be like him. They would say how bravely he had fought in battle, how strong he was, how _smart_ he was.

Thor was right in the end. The gods in this hall were fools. They had died, they had lost and as admirable as they were the dead don't live. Loki wanted to live. He wanted the universe to shout back his name in unison. He wanted to be stronger than Thor and wiser than the Allfather. The Nine Realms would look upon Loki and fear his wrath but above all: _love_ him.

"Careful Loki, don't stare too hard or you'll turn to stone," The deep laughter or Thor echoed off the hallways and a rough arm pulled Loki into an awkward embrace. Loki could feel his cheeks grow hot.

"You're back so soon?" Loki tried not to look embarrassed. Thor let him go and turned to look up at the statues Loki had been studying. "I guess I don't even need to ask who won?" Loki let a smile slide across his face.

Thor grinned. "You should have been there. The arena was filled with almost everyone from the capitol. Even Father was there—you know how rare that is,"

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Father went to your match?" He hoped he didn't sound jealous. Loki could care less if the Allfather made time to watch his son fight in the games.

"And Mother, too," Thor leaned against the base of a statue of Sol, the sun goddess. "Everyone was there," _Where were you?_ Thor's eyes asked. Loki could hear the accusation in his brother's voice and he wondered if it was concern or hurt. Or suspicion.

Loki reached into his pocket and pulled out a slim, silver key. He held it out for Thor to see. It was the key to Odin's wine and ale collection, a room filled with the best malt and port in the Nine Realms.

Thor's eyes widened and Loki could tell the suspicion or hurt—whatever it was—evaporated, instead replaced by delight. How easily distracted.

" _You got it_ ," Admiration danced in Thor's shallow blue eyes. He let out another deep laugh and clapped Loki on the back. "How in Valhalla did you manage to convince the Ale-master to give it to you?"

Thor reached for it but Loki pulled his hand back and smiled dangerously.

"I'll give it to you on _one_ condition, dear brother," Loki said, feeling a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Well, what do you want this time? Another book for your collection?" Thor crossed his arms. Loki could see the suspicion returning.

"Save me a bottle," Loki grinned and hit his brother back on his arm. The tension was eased and Thor gave a booming laugh and drew Loki in again, crushing him in the corner of his arm. He rubbed his knuckles into Loki's scalp, ignoring Loki's cries of pain.

"Of course, little brother, I shall bring back the finest wine in Valhalla. But, will you not join us tonight?"

"I've a lesson tonight," Loki reminded Thor.

"Ah yes, with mother?" There was a hint of mockery in Thor's voice.

Loki knew Thor never thought much of learning magic. He preferred brawn over brains. Loki heard Sif and the Warrior's Three laugh at him behind his back. They thought it was so very suiting of the youngest prince of Asgard, the "trickster". They'd laughed at Loki until Thor told them that it was the Queen of Asgard herself who taught Loki magic. Then, they'd stopped laughing but only when they thought Thor wasn't nearby.

"Then, come with me to the entry of the Einherjar in Valhalla tomorrow!" Thor's face lit up, suddenly excited. "They say the valkyries have chosen well this season,"

On the mention of _valkyries_ , Loki's stomach suddenly dropped and he could feel his heart begin to flutter in his chest. He tried to push the feeling away.

"Perhaps I shall, brother," Loki said.

"Good, well, enjoy your lessons then," Thor straightened up, ready to leave. Clearly, he was on to better things. "I am off to the bath house. I'll save you a bottle!"

Loki waved goodbye, glad Thor hadn't pushed too hard to discover why Loki was absent from the arena today. He'd distracted Thor with the key he'd stolen from the Ale-master a week ago but soon Loki's absences would increase and he would need to find a better excuse. One for Thor, one for the Allfather and one for his mother.

Loki gazed back up at the golden statue of Sol and Mani. They'd been killed by two giant wolves who'd chased them across the sky: Skoll and Hati. _How foolish_ , Loki thought disdainfully. Then, Loki sauntered off towards the palace.

He'd had much more important things to do than reflect and reminisce in the Hall of Fools.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Just wanted to add that I am mixing stories from both traditional Norse mythology and the Marvel comics. Some of the events that are described in the Poetic Edda, Prose Edda, the comics and the Thor movies may be altered in this story and are not officially canon. I'm just having fun mixing and matching (and also making things up). Please write a review if you'd like! It gives me extra motivation and if you notice any spelling errors or grammar issues please let me know! I also welcome any constructive criticism. Anyways, enjoy!

Music for writing Aeron's POV in this chapter: **Fairy Tale (Bonus Track) by Abel Korzeniowski**

Music used for Loki's POV: **The Trial of Loki by Brian Tyler**

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

 _There had been no warning. Only a blast of cold as the seas had turned to ice and the wind to shards. It froze everything in its path: trees, boats, animals, and villages._

 _Aeron had been in the forest when they came. She remembered it well because the horses had begun to scream and the sound echoed in the trees. She'd never heard an animal scream before, like it was in pain, like it was dying._

 _When she returned, the village was coated in frost, a beautiful delicate layer of glittering jewels. It was like walking into a strange dream or a fairy tale. Her footsteps fell deep into the soft snow, leaving a trail of prints behind her._

 _Then, she saw them._

 _Statues of ice frozen in time, in a moment of terror. Inside, there were people. Their mouths were open in silent screams. Mothers shielded their children, old men cowered under a crushing weight, men reached for weapons they would never wield._

 _There was only one creature she knew that could do such a thing, that could turn people into ice statues. She'd thought they were just stories, just monsters her father had told her and her brother about on cold winter nights when the embers in the fireplace were dying and their bellies full of hot chocolate._

T _hat night the monsters were real._

 _She ran home. Home for safety, home for her father and brother. Her heart was pounding like a drum in her chest. Were they home? Were they safe?_

 _The door was open, the frost trailing inside. It was quiet._

 _Then, she was in a pair of warm arms. Her brother sobbed softly in her hair, his body trembling._

 _"Little sunna!" He cried. "I thought you were gone…like Father,"_

 _Their reunion was short-lived. More screams pierced the winter night. Her brother shut the door and pushed her into the wooden closet their father's father had built a long time ago._

 _"Don't come out," He told her. "no matter what you hear."_

 _In his hand, he held a spear. Their father's spear. The spear he'd said could kill anything. Her brother latched the closet door shut and she was left in the dark._

 _She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the closet. It could have been seconds or hours. Either way, the spell was broken when she heard heavy footsteps. They shook the house and rattled the windows._

 _Her brother screamed. Something heavy slammed against the floor. Aeron didn't say anything. She kept her promise. But, as the closet shook, the tools her father kept on the top shelf fell and hit her head. She cried out. The footsteps paused, then came closer._

 _Splinters of wood flew in the air as the door was wrenched open._

 _It was a Frost Giant with skin as blue as the icy bay and eyes as orange as the blood moon. It grabbed her and held her in the air, disgusted. It spoke to her but she couldn't remember what it had said, only that its teeth were pointed and blindingly white. Then, it threw her to the floor beside her brother._

 _His eyes were still open. Still frozen in fear._

 _Aeron could hear the Frost Giant unsheathing his crystal sword. In that moment, she didn't know what had overcome her or why she had even thought of it at that time but she grabbed the spear lying by her brother's body. As it lunged towards her, she held out the spear in defense. At the same time, something sharp pierced her chest but she'd barely felt it._

 _All she could see were its eyes, wide with rage. It died slowly on the end of the spear. Blood dripped from his wound and onto her face. She let the spear and the Frost Giant fall sideways, away from her body._

 _From exhaustion or shock or from wishing it was all a nightmare, Aeron rested her head against the floorboard and closed her eyes. Buried deep in her heart was a shard of ice. Though she'd killed the monster, it had taken her life._

 _She sighed and let death take her._

Aeron cried out and awoke with a start. She grabbed for the spear she kept by her bedside. It was her brother's spear, her father's spear. Now, it was her spear.

Sweat beaded across her forehead and she could feel the longing, the shards of ice in her heart, the grief, the terrible, terrible grief.

She hadn't dreamed of that night when she had died in a long time. In fact, it had been hundreds of years since she'd thought of her family at all. Time had almost erased their faces from her memories. Now, all she remembered were her brother's hazel eyes staring into hers, frozen in fear.

Her father and brother had both gone to Freyja. They were happy now. They were at peace. So, she had moved on. She'd forgotten them and come to terms with their loss. Though, she'd never fully healed from the grief. It was still there, a scar that would never go away no matter how much time had passed.

Fire ran through her veins as century's old anger resurfaced. The Joutens were no longer a threat, the source of their power had been taken from them by Odin a long time ago and was safely locked away in the Allfather's vault. Still, killing one hadn't been enough. If they _ever_ did anything to threaten the peace of the Nine Realms again, Aeron would be the first to deliver justice. She'd be the first to taste their blood.

Aeron threw the covers off. The light of dawn stretched across the darkened skies of Asgard, staining the clouds with a shy amber glow.

 _It was only a dream_ , she told herself _, what's done was done._

She couldn't fall back asleep now no matter if she tried. Better to start the day productive, better to go down to the arena and channel the anger surging through her into her training.

This evening, after all, was the Ceremony of the Einherjar. All the souls who had been selected by her and her Sisters and who had accepted entry into Valhalla would be reviewed by the Allfather today before they swore the oath to forever protect Asgard and serve the king to maintain peace in the Nine Realms. Although it would be the First Crowned Prince of Asgard that would take his father's place this evening while Odin left for Alfheim with the Queen.

Aeron would have all day to train before the Ceremony. Even time to train the young girls off the streets who came to watch her practice. Aeron liked them best. Better than the little boys. There was a time when she'd once watched her brother practice with swords and bows while she watched on enviously, forced to sew and cook.

Aeron smirked. _Oh, how the times have changed_ , she wanted to laugh.

XXXX

"There are many ways into and out of Asgard, Loki," The sorcerer Eldred told the youngest Prince of Asgard.

Loki stood facing his tutor. The sorcerer looked young. He had long, neatly tied back golden hair and an ageless, fair face. One Loki might have once envied. Only Eldred's glittering sapphire eyes held the truth of his true age: that he was nearer in years to the Allfather than he was to Loki. Every now and then, the sorcerer's outline would shimmer and remind Loki that Eldred wasn't truly here in the tower with him. Eldred was probably worlds away, hidden from Asgard after his banishment for practicing dark magic.

Only Loki knew Eldred still existed, still lived. While Loki's mother taught him parlor tricks and illusions, Eldred taught him _power_. Power even great enough to defeat Thor in a skirmish. Power to cast curses and even end lives if need be.

"The Bifrost is the only way in and out of Asgard," Loki wanted so say confidently but it didn't seem to come out that way.

His heartbeat quickened. _How could there possibly be other ways off Asgard?_ He wanted to ask his tutor but he knew Eldred would tell him anyways. Delicious excitement took a hold of his body. The older Prince of Asgard may be strong but the youngest was the wisest. In the end, Loki believed that it would be knowledge that would always trump strength.

A smile spread across Eldred's young face. "That's what the Gate Keeper would have you believe, but there are other ways if you know where to look and if you know how to open them. Ways that would shield you from Heimdall's watchful gaze,"

Loki leaned forward with a grin to match his tutor's. Eldred told him. Then, taught him how to practice the incantations that would open the cracks between worlds. Magic coursed through Loki's veins and electricity crackled on the ends of his fingers and off the tip of his tongue.

By the end of the lesson, the Asgardian sun was just beginning to make its descent from its apex in the sky. Though, Loki would love to stay and continue, he had been gone for nearly three hours. Normally, no one seemed too concerned as to inquire where Loki stalked off to except perhaps Queen Frigga. Yet, in an hour or so, Loki would need to get ready for the ceremony Thor had asked him to take part in.

"Before you go, Loki," Eldred said to him. Merely by the tone in his tutor's voice, Loki already knew what Eldred would ask him. It had been left unsaid since the beginning of their meeting and Loki had thought his tutor wouldn't mention it this time, wouldn't push. "Did you complete the assignment I gave you at our last session?" The sorcerer's violet eyes were knowing and set.

"I did," Loki said lightly, gauging his tutor's reaction. The golden statue of Sol and Mani came to the forefront of his mind.

"How did it say they died?" Eldred asked, clasping his hands together.

"By the hands of Skoll and Hati, two great wolves who roam the shadows of Yggdrasil," Loki said, watching Eldred intently. "Hati, they say, brought down the great chariot of the moon god, Mani while Skoll sought out and destroyed the sun goddess, Sol,"

Eldred's eyes slipped past Loki's and darted out towards the windows. Sometimes, Loki had difficulty reading Eldred. Perhaps, it had to do with his ageless face or the almost mechanical manner he held his body but it troubled Loki. Perhaps, it was just another one of Eldred's defense mechanisms, one that Loki had begun to use himself quite successfully. Either way, Eldred was a very secretive sorcerer.

"I see," Eldred said. Then, he turned towards Loki and his eyes refocused. "Have you thought about my offer?"

"I have," Loki straightened his back and shot his tutor a warning look.

Eldred had cast a powerful concealing charm to hide them from prying eyes but it did not mean that Heimdall couldn't still hear them. What Eldred was talking about was dangerous. In fact, it was more than dangerous. It was treason.

"Have you come to a decision?"

"I have," Loki replied, his voice tight.

"And?" Eldred pushed.

"You help me and I'll help you" Loki said.

The God of Mischief and the Sorcerer of Discord shook hands.

Eldred nodded. "I'll begin the preparations right away. I'll contact you again soon once the spell is complete. Then, you will need to come to me through the gateway I told you about,"

Then, Eldred's illusion vanished leaving Loki alone in the tower.

 _It was real. It was happening._ Loki's palms were clammy. He felt giddy and sick, gleeful and terrified. He didn't know if he had made the worst mistake in his life or the best decision he'd ever made. Either way, when he looked back on this day, he would remember it as the day he had decided to do anything and everything in his power to keep his brother, Thor, from becoming King of Asgard.

On this day, Loki had agreed to raise the wolves Hati and Skoll from the dead. Eldred had done it for revenge: to end the surviving bloodline of Sol he'd discovered still existed. Loki had done it for another reason.

When Eldred had killed the descendents of Sol, Loki would set it on his brother next. The wolves wouldn't kill Thor but they could show the world that Thor wasn't as strong as he let on. On that day, Loki, himself would slay Hati and Skoll. Then, they would all see him in a different light. They'd never know that Loki could control the beasts, that he'd had his hand on their collar.

For once, Thor and Odin would see Loki the Brave. Not Loki the Trickster.

* * *

Thanks for reading! :)


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